


Tom Paris One

by starbender



Category: Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-06
Updated: 2016-02-06
Packaged: 2018-05-18 15:12:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 14,916
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5932882
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starbender/pseuds/starbender
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tom Paris has been severely injured. What the Doctor does to save him gives Tom a whole new perspective on photonic life forms.  Mostly Humorous.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

The light rushed down from his brain to his extremities. It wrapped around him like a blanket becoming part of him. The last thing he remembered was intense burning in his throat and lungs as he struggled for breath but now his respiratory system was calm. The pain was gone. Harry had gotten him back to the ship in time. Either that or he was dead.

  
He opened his eyes. He was in a bed. The stern face of Voyager’s Doctor floated over him. The EMH was part of his afterlife? The Klingons had sent him to Gre'thor and had given him his own personal Fek'lhr.

  
“It worked.” Harry’s voice resonated a bit differently in his ears. Richer. Deeper. Not dead. No Gre’thor. Unless Harry was an angel.

  
“Do you know who you are?” asked the Doctor.

  
“I am Tom Paris,” he said. His voice emanated from an undefined place. He could hear himself but couldn’t feel the words forming. He pushed himself up on his elbows. He was in sick bay. B’Elanna and Harry stood on the side of the bed opposite the Doctor.

Seven was across the room in front of a monitor. He could tell by the way she raised her eyebrows and the set of her lips that she was pleased about something. B’Elanna was a different story. He thought he could interpret every one of his wife’s facial expressions and corresponding moods but now she was completely unreadable. Harry radiated pure joy.

  
“Do you remember what happened?” The Doctor asked.

  
“Harry and I were investigating the moon. Something set off a loud noise there was a flash," Tom  said." I inhaled something. My throat, my lungs were on fire.” Tom shuddered at the memory.

  
“That moon is uninhabited but its ownership is in dispute,” Harry said. You accidentally triggered a bomb that was intended to release a lethal gas. A booby trap. The reason our sensors didn’t pick it up is because the ingredients used were natural to the planet. They were just combined in a way to prove lethal to the Ketvians.”

  
“Who?” Tom asked. A vague memory tried to surface.

  
“A member of one side of the conflict,” Harry continued. 

  
“I tried so hard to breathe,” Tom said. “It was torture.”

  
“Fortunately for you, it was not intended for the human respiratory system so you didn’t succumb right away. Harry was able to get you back to the shuttle...” the Doctor said.

  
“I remember Harry dragging me. You were talking to someone,” Tom said.

  
“I met a Ketvian,” Harry said. “He’d been hiding. He was very helpful. Gave me a device similar to our tricorder. It held all the information the Doctor needed to treat you.”

  
Tom pushed himself to a sitting position. There was something wrong with his hands. His wedding ring was missing. He was still getting used to it because it hadn’t been that long ago that B’Elanna had placed it on his finger He wasn’t wearing a uniform. He wasn’t even wearing the sick bay blues. He was wearing casual off-duty clothes which included the blue silk shirt that his wife always insisted he wear whenever they went for a holodeck outing.

  
“Why am I dressed like this?” he asked.  No one would look at him. They were all staring at the Doctor. “What’s going on? Where’s my ring? More silence. His whole being felt lighter. Was this some residual effect of his experience on the moon or the after effects of alien medicine?  

  
“What did you use to treat me?” He asked.

  
The Doctor’s face had that scrambled look that meant he was unsure how to proceed. “The device the alien gave us included the treatment but it also automatically downloaded your neural functions It happened without warning. It was incompatible with human brain waves and they were starting to degrade. We tried utilizing Seven’s implant but that didn’t work but since I had done this before we came up with the idea of…”

  
“I’m a hologram,” Tom said. That explained why his senses were a bit off. He touched the back of his hand and he could feel it but there was the almost perceivable impression of tiny shocks. He needed to ask the question but was unsure if he really wanted to know the answer.

  
“Where’s...the rest of me?” he asked.

  
“In stasis. Doing fine. Breathing a gaseous medicine if you will. If all goes well you should be all healed in about two weeks,” replied the Doctor.

  
“Two weeks.” He ran his fingers through his hair. That sensation was familiar but his hair was a bit longer than regulation. His chest rose and fell but he had no lungs. There was no need to take in oxygen. He put a hand up to where his heart should be and discovered a steady rhythmic pulse similar to a heartbeat. There was no need for blood, for nerve endings or for his sense of taste or smell. He took a minute to wrap his mind around the idea. His crew mates stared at him, their eyes full of concern.

“And then you will be able to put me back together?” he asked.

  
“I see no reason why not,” replied the Doctor. “I have done this before you know. Now that I have done it twice I believe this proves that I have pioneered something that will truly transform medicine as we know it. With my impressive recreation of a set of holo lungs and my experience with Denara, it could be said that I am now an expert in this particular experimental but promising field. I intend to pass this along during our next communication with the Alpha Quadrant. It goes without saying that I will be in great demand when we finally return…”

  
“I am sure you will be Doctor,” Seven said in her usual dry manner. “In the meantime, I would like to study this device.” The large white disc she held up resembled one of the Doctor’s cortical monitors. Green lights flickered around the perimeters like a Christmas tree.

  
“Of course. Be careful with it. Fascinating bit of technology.” He turned back to Tom. “Ordinarily after an ordeal like this I would say get some rest but since you don’t need rest I suppose I could put you to work. You’ll have to change of course. While I’m sure that outfit is quite comfortable, or it would be comfortable if you were solid, it's hardly conducive to a professional atmosphere.”

  
“If I were solid,” Tom said to himself quietly. This was more than weird. Too many adjustments to be made. So many new sensations. He was having difficulty sorting them out and right in the middle of all that a harsh truth reached out and stunned him.

  
“I’m stuck in here...with you?” he asked. A long-buried dark thought resurfaced. Long ago he realized what imprisonment meant. He knew what would happen. The walls of the sickbay would close in around him. He would slowly retreat inside himself again to a lonely place where anger and bitterness would take hold. Life would become meaningless.

  
Harry laughed.

  
Best friend or not, Tom felt an urge to reach out and smack him for taking joy in his obvious discomfort but the sound of his friend’s laughter chased the dark thoughts away. Maybe that was why he had agreed to this unusual friendship during the first weeks of their journey home. Even after all these years, Harry could still innocently break up a somber moment.

  
B’Elanna managed a smile. That was a relief. He wanted to take her hand, look into her eyes and let her know he was fine, it would all be even if he had no idea if it would be or not. Their relationship had survived mind control, severe depression, post-traumatic stress, and everything else the Delta Quadrant had thrown at them. They would survive this. He needed to reassure her even though he had no idea himself if things would work out or not.

  
The Doctor cleared his throat. “I can assure you there are much worse things Mr. Paris,” he said.

  
“Yes. You are right. Prison is not a new experience for me,” Tom said. “Not so sure about having you for a warden, though.” He said. He smiled at his friends because he had to make light of the situation. That’s what he did. The reality was this was frightening but he would be damned if he would let anyone see that.

  
“We’ll give you some time out in the Holodeck, won’t we, B’Elanna?” Harry said. Tom wished she would say something.

  
“About that. It takes time to create a holodeck character. Especially one as detailed as this one as this," he said hoping she would react. Snap at him, run out of the rooom. Anything.

  
“Yes. We were about to put you into one of your Fairhaven characters but B’Elanna had this one already in the Database,” Harry said.

  
“You created a holodeck character based on me?” Tom asked. “It’s very detailed. I even have a heartbeat.” He didn’t know whether to be offended or flattered.

  
B’Elanna was not one to blush easily. Her human side would giggle when embarrassed which would sometimes give way to Klingon frustration. Now her face was bright red. Since he was unsure of what was going on in there he decided this was a conversation for later.

  
“Well I’m glad you did," he said in what he hoped was a breezy manner. “Could you program a ring for me? I don’t want word to get out that since I’m a hologram that means that I’m somehow available. Things might get a bit messy.”

  
Harry laughed again. Seven allowed herself a small smirk and relief was all over B’Elanna’s face. She was obviously happy that he was not going to make a big deal out it in front of everyone.

  
"I’ll see what I can do,” she said.


	2. Chapter 2

“It feels real,” he said, " But  some things are a bit off.” 

After everyone had gone, he experimented with replacing his clothes. The computer didn’t want to cooperate at first, apparently confused by his commands. It seemed to think he should be wearing the blue of the science department, but eventually it came to its senses and he was properly outfitted in his command red.   He spent a few moments walking around the sick bay. He was surprised at how normal he felt. There were small differences. The audio routines were set to a slightly higher frequency but his vision was the same. He ran his fingers over the monitors and desk surfaces, noting that his sense of touch was a bit more sensitive. 

He took the time to look in a mirror. He looked maybe a year or two younger than his current age and his hair was _definitely_ not regulation, but apart from that there was no great shock at seeing his reflection.

The stasis tube containing the rest of him on the far side of the room was another story.   An imaginary wall stopped him from going over and having a look at himself. The concept of being shared by two bodies fascinated and repelled him.  

“Lieutenant Torres obviously put a great deal of time and effort into making this hologram as realistic as possible, although I can’t imagine for what purpose,” the Doctor said. He had been watching Tom carefully as he adjusted to his new state of being. “You don’t have one of her, do you?”

“No!” Tom said. He had made holograms of real people, but always considered B’Elanna off limits.  He decided at the moment be grateful that she didn’t share his reservations but there had to be a reason she had never told him about this.

“Well, you do get up to some strange things in the Holodeck. I wouldn’t have been surprised to learn....”

The doors swished open, bringing an end to what might have been an awkward conversation.   Captain Janeway entered with a tall, handsome alien.  He was humanoid. A braid of long dark hair was draped over one shoulder, and he had intricate patterns on his cheeks. Tom couldn’t tell if they were natural or a tattoo-like affectation. There was something of the air of a pirate about him.

“Hello, Tom. How are you feeling?” she asked. She graced him with a warm smile.

“I don’t know how to answer that, Captain. I feel fine, but at the same time part of me feels like I’m not really here, if that makes any sense,” he replied.

She took a moment to study him. “Your hair is not regulation, but given the circumstances I think we’ll let it go this time,” she said.   She turned toward the visitor, the smile still on her face. “This is Serian. He’s a Kevite. Ensign Kim met him on the moon and the information he so generously shared saved your life.”

“I am sorry that you were innocently caught up in our conflict but it was fortunate that I was there,” Serian said. His voice was so deep that Tom could feel a reverb.

“Thank you,’ Tom said.

Serian acted as if he had not heard. His large dark eyes zeroed in on him and remain fixed. “Extraordinary,” he said. “You did it. He looks almost exactly the same as the injured man I saw.   I had no idea that holograms could be so intricate.” He turned back to the Captain. “We have experimented with this technology, but so far we’ve only been able to program small things, inanimate objects.” He inspected Tom as if he were a work of art, coming so close that Tom imagined he could feel his breath.  He didn’t know if he should feel flattered or uncomfortable with this close attention.  The Captain cleared her throat.

“Serian is helping us plot a course through this area of space with the objective of keeping us away from the fighting. It has the added bonus of cutting a few months off our journey. The Doctor is going to help them find a less drastic way of treating the effects,” she said.

“Glad my little accident could be beneficial to us both,” Tom said.

Serian’s head shot back as if he had been slapped. “Forgive me. Of course I knew you were sentient, like your Doctor,” Serain said.

“Yes. Like his Doctor,” the EMH said. Serian did not acknowledge the remark.

“I am sentient but I’m not like our Doctor. He’s one of a kind.” He smiled over at his new roommate, who was standing with his arms crossed. The EMH did not like being ignored.

“Of course. He is a pure hologram.  Your brain functions came from an organic source.” Serian did not say it but Tom supposed it could be inferred from his tone that he thought Tom somehow the superior of the two. “I give you my best wishes that you will recover fully from this ordeal.”

“Thank you,” Tom said. The Doctor abruptly retreated to his office. Tom and the Captain took note of this; the Ketvian did not. His face was still firmly focused on Tom.

“I’ll see you later, Tom,” the Captain said. She and Serian left sickbay. The swift opening and closing movement of the door gave Tom a glimpse of the world he would not be able to visit for the next two weeks.

The Kevite may not have meant to be rude, but the whole visit had left Tom feeling unsettled. It reminded him of one of his earliest interactions with the EMH. He had blatantly ignored him. In his own defense, there was a crisis on the ship and Harry was missing, but still... Tom winced at the memory.

His thoughts were interrupted by the arrival of Tuvok.

“Please state the nature of the medical emergency,” he said with his usual mischievous tone used specifically for the Vulcan security officer. Tuvok did not react.

“I have no medical emergency. I merely wished to tell you that I am pleased with the course of events and to extend my best wishes for a full recovery,” he said.

“Well, that is nice of you, Tuvok.” Tom gave him what he hoped was his most winning smile. Tuvok merely raised an eyebrow and went into the Doctor’s inner office.

“Hello, Tuvok. What can I do for you?”  Tom was surprised that he could hear that clearly.

“I came to see how Lieutenant Paris was progressing. Your unique method of holo medicine seems to be successful, and while it is illogical to extend sympathy to a hologram I merely wish to state that I have had on various occasions been forced to spend excessive amounts of time in the company of Lieutenant Paris. He can be most... vexing at times.”

 “I am not looking forward to the next two weeks,” the Doctor said.

  _As if I am_. Tom thought.

“But at the same time, I can tell you that I also found the experiences that I have shared with him to have in the end been oddly rewarding. It is illogical but at the same time undeniably a fact. I suggest that you look for such moments during your time with him.”

“I will certainly try, Mr. Tuvok.”

Tom wasn’t sure how to interpret Tuvok’s words. A thinly veiled insult, or a backhand compliment?  He bent his head over a monitor, pretending to look busy. Tuvok left through the moving doors and once again Tom was taunted by the forbidden outside world.   He walked over to the door and listened to the familiar sound as it opened. Extending his hand beyond the door he and watched in fascination as it disappeared. He had seen this done countless times and knew what would happen, but he had to experience it for himself. There was no pain. He went from existence to non-existence in the span of a few seconds.  It was amazing to watch it appear again.

“Mr. Paris!”  The voice was right beside him. Turning around, he nearly bumped into the Doctor.  From the expression on his face, Tom knew this was one of those ‘vexing’ moments.

“I’m just experimenting. I’ve never been a hologram before,” he said.

The Doctor let out an exasperated sigh.

“I understand this is all new to you, but you must be careful. We don’t want you accidentally decompiling yourself,” the Doctor said. He stared at Tom for a moment and then began to pace around the room. “I was so caught up in saving your life that I wasn’t able to take the time to consider the ramifications. You must accept that you are confined to the sick bay and the holodeck.”

“You could always let me borrow your emitter,” Tom said.

“I will if there is an emergency, but I have to be honest. I am hesitant about loaning it out to you.”

“And why is that?” Tom asked.

“Because you would come up with some far-fetched excuse not to give it back. Or conveniently forget. Or lose it.”

“Doc, are you saying you don’t trust me?”

“I am saying exactly that, Mr. Paris. You will be permitted to use it only if there is an emergency, so please save us both a lot of time by not asking about it again. Do I make myself clear?”

The passionate defense Tom was mentally preparing melted away. The Doctor was right. He was a student of of human nature, and Tom’s nature in particular.

“You will attend to the patients, which will free up my time as I prepare a detailed report of this incident to Star Fleet and as I work to find a way to help the Ketvians.  I suggest you start a personal log of this experience. I’m sure future patients would like to know what to expect.”

“Future patients?”

“Of course. This is going to happen, Mr. Paris. This method of treatment will only go forward.  Now I suggest you do as I say.”

‘Yes, Doctor,” Tom said meekly.  The doctor did have a point.  The EMH went back into his office leaving Tom alone in the big empty sickbay. Well, he wasn’t exactly alone. There was that stasis tube back there.  He was alone with himself.  He had now entered the realm of the absurd.

 

_Lt. Tom Paris Personal Log Supplemental_

_The Doctor has asked me to keep a log of my experiences as a hologram. I will dispense with the account of the events leading to my current situation as it has already been entered into the record by those present._

_When I was revived in sick bay my first sensation was light even before I opened my eyes. I could feel my consciences work its way through this holographic body like a surge of energy. My senses are slightly enhanced but the Doctor does not know if this is simply part of the process or if it is something the Kevites programmed into their system. All I can say is this is a brand new world. There is so much that is familiar but at the same time, there is something not quite real about it. It’s like being a character in someone else’s dream._

_I can feel pain and I still feel emotions._

His voice went quiet.

 _I still feel,_ he thought to himself.  His mind was not here. It was on the other side of the room, focused on the stasis tube that contained the ‘rest’ of him.  He was his own unseen presence, his own ghost. It was starting to eat at him.   

He needed to go look at himself. He needed to confront it because if he didn’t it, would haunt him the whole time he was here and invade his dreams.  He attempted to take a deep breath to buck up his courage, but then he remembered that he had no lungs, so that would not help. There was psychological resistance as he moved across the room, but he forced himself onward.   Reaching the side of the tube, he averted his eyes, allowing his ears to become accustomed to the gentle hum of the mechanisms. He turned to face himself but his eyes closed automatically. He forced them open.  He had heard stories of detached consciousness’ floating around rooms taking the time to stare down at their owners. That could not be any stranger than this.

 He appeared to be resting peacefully, wearing the sick bay blues.  An ugly red mark covered the right side of his face.  Tom was never really vain about his appearance, although there were times when he wished he could have been described in some way other than having ‘boyish good looks.’ Perhaps a scar would give him a bit of gravitas. What would B’Elanna think of that?

He felt a bizarre need to comfort himself. To treat himself as he would a frightened child, to touch his own face and whisper that things would work out. Would ‘he’ hear it? Would he ‘feel’ the sensation? How much of him was actually in this being of light trapped by magnetic containment field? How much of himself was in that tube?  He noted that he was wearing his ring. He could wear it now of course, but then if he were transported away, the ring would stay behind.

Would he look like that if he died? His body sealed into a capsule ready to be shot into space. What if just his body died? Would he remain in this form forever? Would he watch B’Elanna grow old before his eyes? Would she stay with him? 

 _Stop it._ He thought to himself. _Stop referring to yourself as he. It’s me. ME._

A presence to the side of him disturbed his thoughts.  Tom looked into the future and saw a long two weeks of the EMH looking over his shoulder.

“You can see from the monitors that you are progressing precisely on schedule,” he said. His voice was cold and clinical. “That wound was much worse when you were brought in. When you are revived I will, of course, be able to take care of any scarring that might occur.”

“Thank you,” Tom said quietly.

“It is, of course, disconcerting to see yourself in this situation. I’m afraid I can’t do much about that. If you were back in your organic state I could give you something for anxiety, but for now, you must deal with it as best you can.”

“I think I will eventually get used to it,” Tom said, with more confidence than he felt. He needed to change the subject. “Do you feel anxiety?” he asked.

“Of course I do. I have concerns and fears,” the Doctor said.

“How do you deal with them?” he asked. The air of mystery about his solid self-began to dissipate.

“I can adapt. I reprogram myself to adjust to the new situation.  Now, have you done as I instructed?”

“I started a log on my experience. I wish I could talk to Denara right now.”

The Vidian Doctor had been part of their journey for two weeks several years ago. She was a very personable, caring woman. The Doctor used the same treatment for her that Tom was undergoing right now. She had become a hologram while the Doctor worked on her diseased body.  Tom knew if she were here she would go out of her way to address his anxieties, but she was far away. If the beings in the Think Tank were to be believed, her race was now free of the dreadful Phage. Tom hoped life was good to her. Thinking about her made him feel lonely. As far as he knew, he was at that moment the only one of his kind.

 “I suppose that is only natural,” the Doctor said. He was quiet for a moment.

“Do you ever think about her?” Tom asked. He knew he was moving into very personal territory.

“She is embedded in my memory. I can access those memories whenever I feel the need. Unlike the memories of organics, mine do not fade with time. Whenever choose, to I can bring them up and they are as clear as they were when she was here,” the Doctor said. He walked around and glanced at the monitor at the head of the stasis tube and then went back into his office. It was obvious he no longer wished to discuss Denara.

 _How many times has he accessed those memories?_ Tom wondered.

Since he had met B’Elanna, Tom’s thoughts rarely strayed back to the days of his misspent youth. The memories were a mist in his mind, sometimes floating through but now they had little substance and rarely stayed around for long.  Everything that had happened to the Doctor would stay with him forever but only if he choose to access those memories.  Tom never wanted to revisit what happened on Tarakis again but he wouldn’t mind reliving the first time he kissed B’Elanna. He leaned on the stasis tube and looked down at himself.

 _“Which one of us got the better deal?”_ he asked himself. His solid version stirred slightly, giving the impression that he was listening.

 A small, faint scratching sound interrupted his reverie on memories. The room was empty except for himself and… himself.  He heard it again. The sound was coming from the other side of the bulkhead. He considered opening the Jeffreys tube and crawling around in there to investigate, but then remembered he would probably disappear and that would create another vexing moment for the Doctor. He turned away from himself and the noise. It was probably some minor operation of the ship that normally went unheard.

 He returned to the business of his personal log.  Somewhere, someone in the future would find their neural functions inhabiting a hologram, and that person needed to know that while facing your solid self was strange, it was best to take care of it right away rather than avoid it. He spent more time than necessary thinking about how lucky it was that he happened to have a convenient holo twin.

 

 

 


	3. Chapter 3

La Donne e mobile...  
Qual piuma al vento,  
Muta d’accento e di pensiero.  
Sempre un amabile,  
Leggiadro viso

The ship’s chronometer told him three days and nights had passed. The first two hadn’t been so bad. The Doctor had been almost gracious and hospitable in his treatment of Tom, but now it was back to business for him, and that meant opera. Tom tried to be tolerant. He was, after all, the equivalent of a guest in someone else’s house. The Doctor had a nice singing voice, and at first, it was rather pleasant, but now it was simply grating.

The Doctor had suggested deactivation. His brain functions still needed rest, just as they had when he was all in one piece, but the idea of being shut off was unsettling. He couldn’t do it himself and he would not give the Doctor permission. The absolute truth was he didn’t trust the Doctor. Tom just knew he would do something inadvertently to ‘vex’ the Doctor, and the Doctor would, in turn, shut him off without a word, the same way Tom had done to him so many times. Tom regretted his past actions, but now he was undergoing his own vexing moment. Shutting himself off was not an option.

The Doctor had not yet given him permission to visit the holodeck on his own. He didn’t say anything out loud, but Tom was under the impression the Doctor feared he would figure out a way to remain there, and the thing was, he was right. Tom would do his best to come up with some convoluted reason to stay out of sick bay. The Doctor would get the Captain involved; she, or even worse Chakotay, would give him a stern lecture and he would just wind up back here where he started. In all honesty, he was hesitant to wander through Fairhaven or visit Sandrine’s as a hologram. He had created those characters and knew they weren’t real. It didn’t make sense, but being with them would somehow reinforce that he himself was not ‘real’ and that he could be deleted without a moment’s thought. He would wait until he had someone ‘real’ to go with him.

There had to be another way. A distraction.

He hit his combadge. He hated to do this, but he was desperate. “Paris to Torres,” he said.

“Tom.” His wife’s voice was a lifeline. “Are you whispering?”

“Yes! Anyway you can break free for a few moments?” he asked. He didn’t know why he bothered to be discreet. The Doctor would pay him no mind even if he did notice.

“Is this an emergency? Is there something wrong with the hologram?” she asked.

“No. No emergency. Not really. I just need to talk to you,” he said.

“I’m so sorry, Tom. You know I would if I could, but I’ve got a lot going on. I’ll tell you all about it at lunch…”

“But-"

Too late. She had signed off. His fist came down hard on the desk in front of him. What was the use of being the head of your department if you couldn’t just hand things off to your subordinates and walk away? He was angry with her for a few minutes until reason won out over his frustration. In all fairness, she was constantly busy down there. Things always going wrong: conduits leaking, systems going offline and always the odd containment issue. If she said she couldn’t get away, she couldn’t. He hit his combadge again.

“Tom Paris to Ensign Kim.”

“Hey, Tom.” Harry sounded upbeat.

“Are you on the bridge?’” Tom used his normal voice this time. There was no need for subterfuge.

“No, I’m in Astrometric helping Seven. What do you need?”

“An escape! The Doctor is singing opera.” Tom let his voice go monotone in an attempt to reinforce his desperation. “Constantly, forever singing opera…”

A long pause ended with a chuckle.

“Sorry, Tom, but I’m swamped. I’ll see you when I get off duty same as usual,” he said.

Tom’s jaws tightened. Of course, Harry would rather be with Seven. The woman was finally breaking free of her Borg conditioning and was learning to interact as a real human, and was almost pleasant company these days. If he himself were single, and if there were no B’Elanna in his life, he might have been doing the same thing.

He started to stew in his own negative emotions. He remembered once not long ago when he thought he had lost both B’Elanna and Harry in a horrible shuttle accident. He was experiencing something similar now. The two people he loved most in the quadrant might as well be on the other side of the galaxy.

In pianto o in riso, è menzognero.  
È sempre misero  
Chi a lei s'affida,  
Chi le confida mal cauto IL cuore!

There had to be someone. That one person who would drop everything if someone needed him... of course! Why hadn’t he thought of that? He hit his combadge.

“Tom Paris to Neelix.”

“Tom! What can I do for you?” The Morale’s officer’s voice sounded cheerful. He wasn’t out of breath, nor did Tom get the impression that he was in the middle of anything.

“I’m sorry to bother you, Neelix, but can you stop by sick bay? Now?” he asked.

“Of course I can. You want me to bring you something?”

“No. Just show up. Please!”

“Sure thing, Tom. I’ll be right there.”

Tom breathed a sigh of relief. How could he ever have treated this good-hearted, faithful soul like an adversary?

The Doctor brought his solo to an end with a flourish. Tom waited. There was silence for one brief shining moment, and then his hopes were dashed. The strains of Nessun Dorma penetrated the sick bay.

The doors opened. The Talaxian’s sudden appearance brought the impromptu opera to an end. The Doctor stuck his head out of the door of his office. “Mr. Neelix! What can I do for you?” he asked.

“Oh, I thought I’d just stop by and see my how my buddy Tom was doing,” he said. He hurried over to Tom’s side.

The Doctor said nothing but retreated back into his office. Puccini drifted out into the main bay.

“So what’s the problem?” Neelix asked. A particularly long note built to a crescendo before moving down a few tones.

“That! That’s the problem. He won’t stop!” Tom said.

“Not an opera fan, I take it?” Neelix asked.

“I don’t mind opera. In small doses. Not day after day, hour after endless hour. Why couldn’t he like jazz or rock?” Tom bowed his head and covered his ears. “Talk to me. About anything. Today’s lunch menu. I don’t care!”

“Well, hmm. Lt. Nicoletti and Mr. Ayala have been seeing quite a bit of each other.”

“Really?”

“Yes. Dates to the holodeck. Made plans to spend the next shore leave together. That sort of thing.”

“I’m happy for them. I hope it works out.”

“Apparently some kind of rodent managed to come aboard; not sure when. Maybe during that stopover to that M-class planet we visited several weeks ago. They keep hearing it in the Jeffries tube over by Stellar Cartography. You know how those Delaney twins are. Spooked by anything; at least, one of them is. It would take a lot to frighten the other one, but apparently, it's moving around all over but no one has seen it. Had crewman Lessing crawl around and look for it. He said he heard it while he was in there, but it always kept ahead of him. It doesn’t seem to have found the food stores yet, but I am keeping an eye out for it, whatever it is.”

“I think I heard it here the other day. Does the Captain know?” Tom asked.

“I haven’t told her. I didn’t think it was a big enough problem to bring to her attention.”

“Someone should. It could carry disease…” Tom received a sudden inspiration. “Oh, Doc!” he said sharply.

The singing stopped. The Doctor once again stuck his head through his office doorway. “What is it?” he asked.

“Mr. Neelix has just told me that we have an unwanted visitor on board. Apparently, something is living in our Jeffries tubes. He thinks it might be a rodent.”

That got his attention. “This is serious, Mr. Neelix. It could be carrying a disease!” he said.

‘“I know, Doctor. I just thought I could handle it myself.”

“It could get into our food stores. I must take care of this right away! Where was it last seen?”

“We haven’t actually seen it. We’ve just heard it. Last time it was near Stellar Cartographer,” Neelix said.

“Well, I will take care of it! Mr. Paris, you are in charge! Computer, Doctor to Stellar Cartography!”

“Yes sir,” Tom said as the EMH vanished. Sick bay was quiet. He turned and smiled at Neelix. During their conversation, the Talaxian valiantly attempted to hold in his laughter. Now he couldn’t control himself which in turn caused him to hit the side of the instrument trolley, making it shake slightly.

“You just saved my life. Now tell me... what else is going on out there that I should know about?” Tom asked.

Neelix rubbed his hands together and proceeded to do one of the things he loved best. Gossip.

 

The Doctor’s hunt turned into a long, beautiful, opera-free stretch of time for Tom. It took a full day and night to find the ugly little creature. A long snake-like head and a very small body with many feet, like a centipede. No one knew what it was. It was venomous. The venom would not have been lethal, but it would have caused great discomfort to its victim. When the Doctor returned to sick bay with the remains of whatever it was, he began to study it in detail. Opera had been replaced by curiosity.

Tom was pleased with himself, but the quiet did not speed up the slow progression of the long days. He ran every diagnostic, recalibrated every instrument and all the bio beds. He saw to patients the same as he always did, making sure to joke about his current condition in order to put them at ease. Neelix continued to stop by daily, giving him updates on everything that happened below decks. Tom missed the atmosphere of the mess hall. He missed the morale officer’s cooking. He missed simply walking down the corridor and greeting random crew members.

He missed sitting at the helm. Chakotay had stopped by and assured him that his team of relief pilots could carry on in his place because after all, hadn’t he trained them? Hadn’t he insisted on all that extra flight time, and hadn’t he put them through all their paces? It was time to place his faith in his own efforts and in his people. Tom knew Chakotay would do a good job looking after the Conn, but it was a hard thing to concede.

This morning he had viewed the Captain’s briefings via the monitor but spent most of his time staring at his wife. B’Elanna came to the sick bay whenever she had a free moment, but her visits always went by much too quickly. Yesterday evening, when she stopped by his 'ring', had appeared on his finger, placed there by her programming. For some reason, the fact that he wanted it meant a lot to her. Her goodbye kiss was a little longer, and she held onto him a little tighter than usual and he didn’t want to let her go. That felt almost exactly the same for him as it did before. His being a hologram hadn’t changed that, and she told him that to her it was no different.

His mind began to wander during the briefing. When this was over he was going to take her to some ultra-romantic location. Sailing, somewhere. She liked sailing. He soon lost himself in a beautiful fantasy about her. She would be wearing that sundress, there would be a beach, and the sand would be white and warm. He had just gotten to the part where he was about to give her a long passionate kiss when something across the table startled her, causing her to look up at him. He winked at her. She smiled back, but her expression was a bit uncertain. His eyes wandered over to see what had caught her attention.

Staring at him, his face full of fury was the Doctor.

Tom reluctantly focused his attention on Chakotay, who was going on in that soft sing-song voice of his about some anomaly they were approaching that Tom would never see. He didn’t look at B’Elanna again until the meeting was over.

The Doctor materialized back into sick bay, the scowl still on his face. “Need I remind you, Mr. Paris that those briefings are for serious ship business? Not an opportunity for you to be daydreaming and flirting with your wife. You are fortunate that no one else noticed.”

“You’re absolutely right. I just…miss her.”

“I understand this is hard for you. I am no stranger to emotional attachments,” he said. “But you see her every day. It’s not like you haven’t been separated before. Both of you have been on away missions that lasted longer than two weeks and you managed to survive.”

“That was different. She wasn’t… right there.” Tom said. There was no way the Doctor would understand. He wanted to be alone with his wife somewhere away from this sickbay so they could have a little bit of privacy. She and Harry promised him a holodeck outing but the only time they had to work on it was after hours and they spent most of that time with him. He would have been happy enough hanging out at Sandrine’s again but they seemed to be excited about it, whatever it was, so he decided to wait and let them work their magic.

So in the meantime, all he and B’Elanna could do was talk. They talked mostly about her day and her work and daily operations. They did not speak of the fact that he was now inhabiting the holographic character Tom Paris One which she had quietly created. An idea started to form in his head of creating one of her so his holo twin would have someone to pal around with after he recovered. He would make one of Harry while he was at it. Why not copy the whole crew and keep them deep in a secure database, just in case something like this happened again? How hard could it be? Tuvok had done it, but he had decided to delete his creations after that disaster with the Alpha Insurrection program. The idea kept him occupied for most of the morning and he even went so far as to write out a proposal.

He eventually became bored with his holographic vision of Voyager. He was, for the most part, an easygoing person, but there was something within that would not allow him to simply exist. He had to be doing something, even if it was wrong. Maybe that was what caused him to pick up the small sharp pointed tool, intended for fine tuning the smaller instruments, and proceeded to prick his finger. There was pain but no blood. He found that intensely interesting and proceeded to repeat the process.

“MR. PARIS! What are you doing?”

Turning around, Tom was inches away from a very cross face. “Just experimenting. This is fascinating.”

“Do you want to short-circuit yourself?”

“Can I do that?”

“Well… not really. But no good can come of that.” The Doctor took the instrument away from him and stared down at the sharp point. He stayed deep in thought for a moment.

“So you can feel pain?”

“Yes. It's not quite the same as I felt it before... when I was real.”

“Mr. Paris, might I remind you that…”

“Sorry, Doc. Of course, you are real. I just meant….” Tom said. No matter how hard he tried he kept saying the wrong thing. The Doctor stared at him for a long minute before replacing the tool on the tray.

“Never mind, Mr. Paris. I would hope your present situation would be a cause for you to develop some sort of empathy for us photonic beings.”

“I am Doc. Honestly. I had no idea what it was like.” That was the truth.

The Doctor was silent for a few moments.

“I discovered something interesting while going over your records.” The Doctor was back to his clinical self again. “Despite your less-than-enthusiastic attitude about your medical duties, you have somehow managed to complete almost all the requirements for the Level 5 Enhanced Field Medic Certification. That is no small accomplishment. Part of that is because of the uniqueness of our situation where you have been forced into on the job training and the other is, well, you have a good teacher if I do say so myself. There is one protocol remaining and since you have time on your hands, so to speak, I believe now would be a good time to get this small, insignificant assignment out of the way. You can get started on it now and do the final when your consciousness is back in your body. This is one that, while not of the highest priority, does take practice.”

“Practice? What am I supposed to do? Perform neurosurgery?”

“Successful delivery of humanoid infants. We start with a straightforward case, with a human, and then proceed to the various complications you might encounter and then move onto the various humanoid species. We do scenarios with and without instruments. It's rather routine and boring I might add.”

“Deliver a baby?” Tom said. He wasn’t sure he had heard him correctly.

“Yes. I will be there to assist you through the instructional phase. Nothing to it, I assure you.”

“Deliver a baby?” Tom said. “Me?” Since arriving in the Delta Quadrant he had imagined all kinds of creative solutions for yet encountered situations but this was not one of them.

“Yes, Mr. Paris. Didn’t you do this at least once during the required basic first aid training at Star Fleet Academy?”

“Yes,” Tom said. ‘Once. A long time ago. I don’t remember much about it. I think they let me slide through on the requirement.” Tom didn’t want to tell the Doctor the reason his memory was hazy was because he had attended an unapproved party the night before.

“All the more reason to refresh your memory and to learn the proper procedures for various scenarios. I realize there is no need for such knowledge at present but unless some yet unknown fortune should favor us this will be a long trip hope. Voyager could easily become a generational vessel. I could be deactivated at a moment’s notice. Best to be prepared. I also think the Captain would be interested in knowing how close you are to obtaining this Certification. In fact, she might just make it an order.”

‘No... I’ll do it. Don’t bring the Captain into it,” Tom said. He hated admitting to the fact that the Doctor was right. It would be a long trip home, and things could go wrong. Why me? Of all the people on the ship. Delivering babies was the last thing he ever imagined himself doing and now there was no way of getting out of it.

“Good. Since there is nothing pressing, I suggest we start right away. Computer. Transfer EMH and Paris One to Holodeck One.”


	4. Chapter 4

“Mr. Paris! Look at the position of the baby’s head. It's a wonder you haven’t dropped it! Now you hold it by its feet…” the Doctor said. His tone was sharp.

“It's slippery!” Tom said. The holo baby waved his tiny arms vigorously and shook his head violently as his small lungs filled with fake oxygen. It had been hard for his own holo fingers to get a grip.

“Of course it's slippery. We went through that.” The Doctor was exasperated. “Computer, reset program!”

The baby disappeared and the young red-haired holo character named Mary reappeared. She was sitting huddled in a corner showing signs of obvious distress.

“Can you help me?” She gasped.

Tom immediately went to her side and took her hand and looked into her large oversized green eyes.

“Don’t worry. I can help you. You’ll be ok.”

With the Doctor standing over him he went through the whole process of timing contractions and murmuring what he hoped were helpful words to the young woman. He somehow managed to help her work through the pain, taught her how to breathe and when to push. It was messy and noisy. The woman kept cursing someone and he inwardly cursed the Doctor and even the Captain who had ordered him, of all people, to fill a position that he was not suited for. He wondered if this was a real requirment for anything. Maybe this was the Doctor’s way of getting back at him for his casual attitude toward his sick bay duties and all those missed shifts.

Finally, a baby boy appeared which he managed to hold correctly. Another few minutes and he presented the wrapped and clean infant to the smiling young woman. He didn’t know who had created this program but he or she had done an excellent job. He could see real gratitude in those eyes and it in turn gave him sense of real accomplishment,

“Computer, end program.” The Doctor said. Mary and the baby flickered away. Their disappearance reminded Tom of his own fear of deletion but he had also discovered that being around other holograms was not as bad as he feared.

“Much better, Mr. Paris. Now this was a standard labor and delivery with no complications and no instruments. We still have several scenarios to work through, but that will be enough for today. I will say that you do have an excellent bedside manner. You were able to calm the patient most efficiently.”

“A compliment, Doc?” Tom asked. He laughed.

“I do try to give positive reinforcement when it is merited, Mr. Paris,” the Doctor said stiffly. The mechanical sound of the opening holodeck door distracted both of them. It was Harry.

“Good afternoon!” he said cheerily. Tom realized that he had once again lost track of the passage of time. This was now part of the endless day that had become his life.

“Doc, if it is alright with you, B’Elanna and I have mapped out the rest of the day for Tom. The Captain has approved it,” Harry said

“I suppose. You will, of course, report back to sick bay if there is any kind of emergency. We will continue with your training tomorrow at 08 hundred hours. Computer. Transfer EMH to sick bay.”

“Thank you, Doc,” Tom said. He smiled as the EMH dissolved away. He turned to his best friend “Finally! What do you two have planned?”

“Right now we are going skiing. B’Elanna will be along later.”

“Harry, you are a real lifesaver,” Tom said. Freedom was wonderful, even if it was only fake freedom supplied by a holodeck.

It was not a specific location, but a place of Harry’s own design. He had clearly spent a lot of time on this. Long slopes and beautiful vistas and cold bracing air. The rush at the apex of the run was the same, the challenge of weaving through obstacles and the final feeling of accomplishment at the bottom of the hill. Harry fell a couple of times, tumbling harmlessly through the snow. He kept bumping into a pretty, petite blonde woman named Yvette.

“Careful, Harry,” Tom warned. “Remember…”

“Don’t remind me, Tom. I learned my lesson.”

What was missing was the fear. They could turn the safeties off and while it might hurt, Tom knew he was in no danger. What must it be like to live like this all the time, he wondered? To fly into deadly peril, knowing nothing could harm you? But then, wasn’t it the chance of getting hurt that added to the enjoyment of it all? The Doctor said he had concerns and fears, but did he ever experience anything similar to that rush of adrenaline when faced with an unknown obstacle? Did he ever want to?

The time came for one last run. He waited for Harry at the bottom of the hill, watching as the Ensign managed to plow into a snowbank. His friend emerged laughing, brushing the snow off his parka and his face.

“I hope you enjoyed all this!” he said.

“It was great. Thanks, Harry. You have no idea how much I needed this.”

“So how is it, being stuck in there with the Doc?” Harry asked.

“We always get on each other’s nerves in the best of times. I will say, though, this whole experience has given me a new... understanding of what it must be like for him,” Tom replied.

“Tom having sympathy for the Doctor. I think I’m going to have to include that in the next transmission to Starfleet.” Harry said.

“Very funny. When is B’Elanna showing up?”

“She’s waiting for you in Holodeck Two. I’ll see you tomorrow sometime. Computer, End Program.” The windy locale of the fake Alps faded into the familiar lines and grids.

“Thanks again Harry.” His friend exited whistling.

“Computer, Transfer Program Tom Paris One to Holodeck Two.”

Normally transporting felt like a quick immersion into a beam of light. Now he was part of the beam, shimmering and stretched out from the floor to the ceiling, only to pop together again. It was a bit disconcerting, but not painful. He was back in his casual clothes in a replica of their quarters. B’Elanna was waiting for him, wearing her loose-fitting pants and tank top that she called her ‘after work clothes’. She looked beautiful.

“After what Harry planned, I thought a normal evening at home would be nice,” she said.

“That sounds great.”

‘You mean it?” She seemed a bit nervous.

“Of course I do,” Tom said. He was happy to be alone with her. The location didn’t matter.

“I’ve hated coming home alone to an empty room. I just thought we could do something routine. I had the TV beamed over. I thought we might watch Casablanca.”

She walked over to him, and he became aware of the warm, gentle pressure of her arms around his waist. She rested her head on his shoulder. His arms immediately went around her and pulled her closer. Finally. He could stay there forever.

  
“It sounds perfect,” he said quietly. “There is one thing I want to know, though. Before we start….”

“Why do I have a hologram of you?” she asked. She sighed and looked away. She was clearly embarrassed.

“Well, now that you bring it up…”

“It's not what you think.”

“What am I thinking?” he asked. He gently reached down and pulled her face back toward him. He smiled at her. He couldn’t help that it might come across as slightly flirtatious.

She pulled away from him and playfully punched his arm.

“It will sound silly.” She turned on the TV and led him to the couch. She sat down close to him. “You remember the way we used to fight? You would always have your say and then just... walk off. I hated it when you did that, but you did it all the time. It was so frustrating because I was NOT done with my side of the argument so I made the hologram so I could finish what I was saying. I yelled at him a lot. He was a verbal punching bag. I guess it’s a Klingon thing. It's been a while since I activated him.”

“Probably because since we got married I have no place to run,” he said. “And is that is why my hearing so enhanced? You wanted it to hurt?” He laughed. The image of his wife ranting at this version of himself while ‘he’ just stood there and took it was comical. He couldn’t help himself. She pulled away from him so she could punch him again, this time hard. His half-Klingon wife had a powerful punch.

“Ouch!” he said, but he couldn’t stop laughing. After a moment she joined in. She leaned back against him and he put his arm around her but for the rest of the evening they couldn’t glance at each other without bursting into laughter.

 

 

“She’s not breathing!"

“Use the cardio stimulator, Mr. Paris. Place it right there…”

Tom’s hands were shaking. This was the worst scenario of all. The baby girl had come too early and was too small. He didn’t like the idea of holding the power of this little life in his own hands.

“Three millijoules should do it.” The Doctor was extremely calm.

Tom allowed the small electrical pulses to shoot through the instrument. “Nothing.”

“Again,” the Doctor said. Tom complied, and wished he could program himself so he could relax or better yet, feel nothing. Just then he felt movement and the holo baby let out a small cry. Relief came hard.

“Excellent job, Mr. Paris. I must say you really applied yourself this time. Now make sure the vitals are stable.” Once again they went through the drill of cleaning up the baby, checking out the mother and handing a clean, wrapped infant to the mother who once again smiled at Tom. Once again they flickered away.

Tom did not move but stayed in position, looking at the empty place where the mother and infant had been.

“How do you do that?” he asked.

“How does who do what?”

“You. Doctors. Go through that... again and again.”

“We have an intense desire to alleviate suffering, Mr. Paris. I am, of course, programmed that way.”

“But you have all those experiences of all those Doctors…they have to make those decisions about life and death all the time… how do they do it?”

“I could ask, what makes you want to sit at the helm of a Starship when you never know what you will encounter? Personally, I think that would be the last thing anyone would want to do. Aliens firing out you, spacial anomalies doing who knows what, controls shutting down...and you have the life of the crew in your hands. I honestly don’t know how you do it.”

Tom glanced up at the Doctor. The two remained quiet while they returned to sick bay, each lost in his own thoughts.


	5. Chapter 5

“Good morning, Doctor!” Tom said as he materialized back into Sick Bay. All was right with the world. The Doctor had allowed him the liberty of spending another night with B’Elanna in their holographic quarters. He was surprised to see Seven in the office standing by the Doctor’s desk.

“Good morning, Mr. Paris. I trust you had an enjoyable excursion to the holodeck,” the Doctor said.

“I did. Thank you for the time off.”

“You will be happy to know that I have been able to study the device and learn a great deal about how it works,” Seven said. “These lights are part of a code. Apparently, the treatment for this particular weapon was extremely detrimental to the neural functions of the Kevites, so they developed a way to download their brain functions to this device as a form of protection. The neural information would be stored here. I was able to upgrade it to accept human brain patterns, so that should make your integration back to your body much easier. I have also duplicated the files,” Seven said.

“I can’t wait to send my reports to Starfleet Medical,” the Doctor said. If it was possible for a hologram to glow, the Doctor would now be shining.

Seven smiled at the Doctor’s display of enthusiasm.

At that moment something hit the ship. It rocked. Tom watched sparks fly from his fingers. He could see through them for a few seconds. He looked up to see the Doctor suddenly flash on and off and then on again.

“What is happening?” Tom asked. Terror filled him. This was different from any other fear he had ever known. Seven reached over and hit the Doctor’s mobile emitter. The EMH disappeared.

“Computer, deactivate Tom Paris One.” Seven’s voice sounded like she was speaking from the end of a long tunnel.

He fell into a void. It was dark, but he was still aware that he existed. It took a few minutes for him to adjust to his state of being. It was the same as the sensation when first waking from a deep sleep. His eyes closed, his sense dulled but knowing he was conscious. He didn’t like it. He vaguely remembered the Doctor describing it as existential horror. Part of him wanted to cry out but he couldn’t speak. Fear held onto him. He wondered if he would be trapped in this place... forever. He cursed the darkness because normally he would be on the bridge knowing exactly what was going on, and here he had no idea of their situation. Thoughts jumbled together in his mind in no particular order. Damn it, he still had things to do. Suddenly the certification the Doctor was pushing on him seemed very important, as did every other small and aggravating thing that he had ever complained about. He felt a need to bargain with someone, even though he had no idea who. He wanted to be with B’Elanna; he wanted kids. He had a vague sensation of moving about which was ridiculous. Changing locations. There was no place to move in here. There was just existence. A long, drawn-out, empty….

Then, just as suddenly, he came back online. He was in the holodeck in front of a table covered with long thin instruments. Two aliens with long snake-like heads and multiple arms were bending over a computer with their backs toward him. They were the larger versions of the rodent the Doctor had killed and captured. Had it been a scout? A probe of some sort? He saw communicators on the table but no sign of the Doctor’s mobile emitter, nor the large white disc he had last seen in Seven’s hand. That was a good sign. The aliens were mumbling to themselves but Tom could hear them.

“Right when I get a lock on it, it moves,” one of them said.

“That’s ridiculous. A hologram cannot move about in the system. Not even a sentient one. It is just a computer program, the same as any other,” said the other.

"Perhaps it would not need to wait for programming. It might react the same as you or me.”

 _They are looking for me._  They had activated him but were unaware of it. The aliens would look up any moment and see him. He couldn’t let them know who he was. He did the only thing that he could do under the circumstances.

“Please state the nature of the medical emergency,” he said. The aliens jumped and turned around. He made an effort to appear as passive as possible.

“You fool!” One of them said. “You activated their medical officer!” It had worked. Their reaction also revealed that they had not seen his body in sick bay. If they had, they would know he was not the Doctor.

“I don’t know. This one sound different,” the first alien said. This one was the taller of the two.

“Different? How?” asked the shorter one.

“I can’t explain it. I never saw any of them. Only heard their voices. No matter. This one may prove useful.” The two stepped as one toward him, each taking up a different position around him.

“Where is the other one?” the short one asked. There was antagonism in that voice.

“What other one?” Tom asked.

“The one like you.”

“There are no others like me,” Tom said. He tried to sound dismissive.

“The one who was with you in the medical bay. Where is he?” asked the tall one. His tone was more restrained.

“You mean Mr. Paris?” Tom tried to affect his best imitation of the Doctor’s most disdainful attitude. “He wishes he could be like me. He’s a pale imitation at best.”

“You were treating him for breathing the gasses of the Boratian moon.”

“Yes, I was,” Tom replied.

“You downloaded his brain functions into a being like you.” The tall one was apparently the more reasonable of the two.

“There is no point in denying it since you seem to have everything worked out.” Tom felt like a yawn would have worked here, but decided against it.

“Tell us where he is, or we will deactivate you!” The shorter alien said. His voice was starting to sound like a bark.

“As soon as the ship came under attack we were both deactivated. I have no more idea of where he is than you do at the moment.” Tom decided to take a chance. They had obviously been to sick bay. He needed to know what they saw there. “The last time I saw his body it was in sick bay in stasis. That can’t be of much use to you.”

“He is not in sick bay!” Short Alien said with a snarl. It was all Tom could do to not breathe a sigh of relief. He was right. His friends had obviously moved him to a safer location.

“Then I am afraid I can’t help you. Obviously, some of my crewmates moved him but as to where I do not know. What do you want with him?” he asked.

“We want to study him… and we want your research on your treatment for our weapon,” the tall one said. He was obviously irritated by his partner’s interrogation methods.

“Why?”

“So we can make our weapon stronger, of course.” Any feelings of goodwill Tom had begun to feel toward the tall one vanished.

“You realize as a medical officer I cannot help you. I am sworn to do no harm, even to aliens who have apparently invaded my ship. I cannot give you the information you have requested for the purpose of harming others,” Tom said. He hoped the Doctor was listening.

“These Federations are fools,” Short Alien said. Another snarl. “We cannot harm you, but what if we... do some experiments on some of your crewmates? Will you talk then?” he asked. “Bring it in!”

B’Elanna? There was no way in hell he could just stand there while they did who-knows-what to her. Harry? Same thing. That went for any of his crewmates. His mind went through several scenarios of possible actions he could take, but his planning was stopped by the arrival of another alien and Captain Janeway. He pushed her in front of him. A very faint hint of confusion crossed her face but she immediately went passive.

“Captain,” he said. “I have told these people that as the medical officer on this ship that I cannot help them. They want me to…”

“Doctor,” she said firmly. “I know what they want. Give it to them.”

“But I can’t…”

“You are also programmed to follow orders. Meet us in sick bay and you can give the information they request. Do you understand?”

“Yes, but I must protest…”

“Of course you must. Duly noted. Computer. Transfer the hologram in Holodeck Two to sick bay.”

Tom noted her creative way of not using his name. Once again he was stretched apart and in seconds was back in sick bay. He had questions. How long had he been deactivated? Where was the Doctor?

A sudden shimmer of light and photons and the Doctor was there.

“Mr. Paris? What are you doing here? You are supposed to be hiding in the data base for the waste reclamation protocols.” He immediately picked up a tricorder and began waving the scanner around him. “It seems you have come through the ordeal with everything intact.”

“The aliens activated me, in the holodeck. I think it was accidental. They are on their way here with the Captain. I am supposed to give them the information you have on the gas weapons.”

“You are, are you? Why did the Captain agree to that? That’s not what we planned. And why you? Why did they let you go? We thought they were looking for you.”

“I don’t know the answers to your other questions but… they… think I’m you.” Tom winced as he said the words.

“And why would they think that?” the Doctor asked. The scowl on his face was truly frightening.

“I told them. I listened in on their conversation. They were looking for me.” He glanced over to the far end of the sick bay. “Where’s the rest of me?” He asked.

“Ensign Kim managed to hide the stasis tube in the Cargo Bay, behind a holographic wall before he was captured. It has an independent power source. You are safe for now. We had planned to activate you and send you to the bridge. The crew members who were on the bridge at the time were gassed and the aliens managed to lock it down. We had a plan. Seven was going to send you there to revive the crew and then you were to take the helm, but since they are going to be here any minute and they think that you're me…”

“Why can’t you go ahead with it? You can take my place,” Tom said.

“Take your place!”

“You go the bridge. You can pilot a shuttle, can’t you?”

“I have rudimentary piloting skills. They were programmed into my matrix for emergencies, but I don’t think I was meant to pilot a starship…”

“I would say this is an emergency!” Tom said. “You need to go...do whatever it is you have to do. I’ll stay here and be you.”

“Very well. The details of the gas are here.” He pushed a button on the closest computer. “Wish me well, Mr. Paris.” With those words, he disappeared, and not a moment too soon. The door opened. The aliens entered, one holding a phaser like a weapon against Captain Janeway.

“I believe this is what you are looking for,” Tom said, indicating the nearby monitor. Calculations and chemical symbols were sprawled across the screen. The two aliens Tom had met earlier rushed to the monitor and began to study it intensely.

“Well, what do you think?” the short one asked.

‘I don’t know. I have never seen these combinations before. I will need to run tests.”

The sound of phaser fire erupted outside in the corridor. The two aliens by the monitor turned around as the alien who had been holding the Captain rushed outside. She stood there calmly. Apparently, there was a plan, and everything was happening accordingly. She tapped her com badge.

“Commander Tuvok? Are you with us?”

“I am here Captain, outside of sick bay.” The deep resonance of the Security Officer’s voice calmed Tom’s fraying photonic nerves.

“Level 5 force field around the aliens in sick bay,” she snapped. “Beam the rest of the aliens to Cargo Bay 2.”

“Yes, Captain.”

The light streamed around the aliens and they turned around in full fury.

“Release us or we will…”

“You will what? Knock us out again? Won’t work, gentlemen.” She glanced at Tom. “Welcome back, Mr. Paris. I trust you’re no worse for the wear. We were afraid that moving your matrix around so much might cause some degradation, but it appears you have held together pretty well. You do know you can step out of there?”

Tom had never walked through a force field before. It was like walking through a waterfall of light opening before him, shimmering around him and then closing behind him.

The ship gave a small lurch.

“Captain to the Bridge. Who is at the helm?”

“I am, Captain.” The Doctor’s voice came back a bit too quickly. “I was able to take out the aliens and revive the crew members who are up here but they will need some time to fully recover from the effects of the gas. I would appreciate it if I could be relieved as soon as possible.”

A slight smile crossed her face. She turned back to Tom. “Quick thinking on your part to pretend to be the Doctor,” she said.

The ship lurched again.

“Captain!” The EMH sounded desperate.

“I’ll be right there, Doctor! Tuvok, beam the aliens in sick bay to the Cargo Bay with the rest. I am going to the Bridge to take the helm. We’ll have everyone back where they are supposed to be as soon as possible.”

The aliens disappeared along with the Captain. It took a few moments but the motions of the ship evened out. The Doctor shimmered back into sick bay.

“Well, that was MOST unsettling!” he said. “There is a great deal of difference between flying a starship and a shuttle craft!”

“You did fine. We’re still here, aren’t we?” Tom said.

“I most certainly did NOT do fine. I thought it was simply a matter of programming. I see now that practical experience has a great deal to do with it,” he said. “I obviously need more information downloaded into my matrix!”

“Anytime you want more practical experience to help your program I will be more than glad to help,” Tom said.

“I feel that I might have to take you up on that offer,” the Doctor said. He was scowling, no doubt at the thought of Tom having to help him with anything.

“Tell me all about what happened,” Tom said. “I don’t like not knowing what is going on around me.”

“A situation I know all too well. Many is the time I’ve been here while chaos was breaking out all over the ship and no one would take the time to explain the situation. You can listen in as I make my report. At least you got the initial deactivation out of the way. I trust that since you now know what it feels like that you will be more inclined to deactivate yourself. The first time is the worst time. From now on, simply relax.”

“If you say so, Doc. Now, what happened…?”

For the next twenty minutes, he sat in front of the Doctor’s desk and listened as he reported to his log a story of a hostile alien takeover. It started with the aliens having some kind of psychic connection with the ‘rodent’ which had apparently come on board via Serian’s shuttle, being fired on, alien intrusion, a gas weapon being unleashed on the bridge, the Captain being taken hostage, the rounding up the rest of the crew, the list of the demands which included not only the Doctor’s treatment but Tom himself, both holographic and organic versions. The Doctor and Seven played a game of cat and mouse with the aliens, going from one Jeffries tube to another, with Seven taking every opportunity to stay one step ahead of the aliens by hiding Tom’s matrix here and there throughout the ship’s systems. Then there was Harry, who managed to elude their grasp long enough to hide Tom. There were covert communications with the Captain when she had been left alone for a few brief moments in the brig right up to the point where the aliens finally found Tom, more by accident than design.

The details started to fuse together in Tom’s mind. He would have to read the full report later.

“I’m normally in the thick of things,” he said. “Sitting on the sidelines is a new experience.”

“Might I remind you that had you not stumbled on that weapon, none of us would be having this ‘experience’,” the Doctor grumbled.

“True, but there were some good things that came out of it. You were able to help the Ketvians and add to your medical portfolio. We were able to knock a few months off our journey. I got to find out what it’s like to be you.” He said the last statement quietly.

The Doctor gave him a cold hard stare. "Mr. Paris. Are you trying to instigate some kind of bonding moment?”

Tom bit his lower lip in an attempt to hide a smile. It was futile. “I tried.”

“Need I remind you that I am NOT Ensign Kim. Save your bonding moments for him.”

“Anything you say, Doc,” Tom said.

The EMH sat back in his chair and stared at his computer screen. An odd smile crossed his face and gradually grew larger finally reaching the point where he was laughing to himself.

“Care to share?” Tom asked.

“I was just thinking about my final report to Star Fleet medical. I find it highly amusing that hotshot Pilot Lieutenant Tom Paris who was dragged kicking and screaming into Voyager’s Sick Bay and who tried at every turn to get out of his duty will, despite his efforts, be remembered in Starfleet MEDICAL history. When future students study this, your name will be right there in their required texts. There will be no escaping it.”

“You find this amusing, do you?” Tom asked.

“Yes. I do. Your contribution to the future with the footnote of ‘By the way, he was also a fairly good pilot.’”

Something broke within Tom. The old him would have pushed back at the Doctor’s glee at his expense, but now all he could do was acknowledge the irony of it all. It was funny. He laughed along with him. There was also more than one way of bonding. The Doctor sat back in his chair, put his feet up on the desk and began to hum the Anvil Chorus.

Tom was experiencing a new appreciation for Opera.


	6. Chapter 6

“One last protocol, Mr. Paris. This time we will aid a Klingon woman.”

“A Klingon woman?” Tom asked.

“Yes. This is very rare. Klingon women have the good sense to stay close to home when their time is near but things will happen. There are of course ceremonies and rituals that accompany Klingon birth... I never saw a culture have so many rituals for almost every contingency in life. Anything that happens there is a corresponding ritual.”

“Doc, I know,” Tom said. He smiled at his mentor.

“Well of course you would. Well, here is the scenario. It is an emergency situation. There has been a shuttle accident. She has survived uninjured but labor has started. Computer, Klingon Medical Scenario One.”

Tom was in the middle of smoke and debris. The Klingon woman was sitting curled up in a corner of the broken shuttle glaring at him.

“Are you injured?” he asked. He rummaged around the bits and pieces until he found a med kit.

“I am not,” she said firmly, almost spitting out the words. Tom sighed. The woman could have every broken every bone in her body but would say nothing about it.

“How is the…”

“He is fine. I need nothing.”

“I think you do,” he said firmly as he approached her. She pulled back an arm to hit him. Fortunately he anticipated her move and stopped her in mid swing.

“I am not going to have the members of your family's house coming after me if anything happens to you or your... son.”

She relented.

“If anything happens to him I will kill you,”she hissed. Klingon women could be congenial if the situations called for it, but the friendly eyes could turn hostile without warning. He was reminded of B’Elanna in the early days. Back when he first met her.

“And so you should,” Tom answered.

“At any cost save the child,” she said great deliberation.

“I’m married to a Klingon. Well, a half-Klingon, but I know all about your people and their ways,” Tom said. She visibly relaxed perhaps sensing that here was one who understood.

It went smoother than Tom had expected mainly because the Klingon woman considered it dishonorable to cry out in pain or show discomfort, although she did accept some pain relief, which surprised him. There was still some cursing from both of them but in the end he held a small Klingon boy whose wails were the loudest cries he had ever heard. He held the boy for a moment conscience of the tiny ridges across his forehead. His own children, if he had children, would probably be like that. Loud wails, small forehead ridge like their mother.

“Give me my son P’tak!” the woman said. Tom was aware that he hadn’t bothered to ask the woman her name. He handed the infant over and the woman immediately showing signs that she would be even more protective than the other holographic mothers.

She looked up at Tom, disdain still in her glance but it was tempered by a reluctant, small smile.

“Jup,” was all she said. Tom smiled. It was Klingon for ‘friend.’ If this had been real life, Tom would have been included in one of those rituals and would have been declared a friend of her family’s house.

The woman and child disappeared. Tom stared after them unsure of what it was he was feeling.

“Most excellent Mr. Paris. This was the last of it. I am fully confident that when you are fully recovered you will have no problems passing the practical exams. The Captain will be pleased to hear it.”

“This is something I never thought I would be doing,” Tom said.

“I will say that you have managed to... exceed your programming,” the Doctor said.

 

_Lt. Tom Paris Personal Log Supplemental_

_The Doctor has managed to help the Ketvians upgrade their treatments for injuries sustained from the gaseous war bombs of the Boraration. In return, they were able to guide us through their space and help us knock six months off our journey. I would say that two short weeks in sick bay with the Doctor was worth it._

_My time as a hologram is almost at an end. Tomorrow morning the Doctor and Seven of Nine will attempt to reunite my neural functions with my body. My lungs are healed and there is every chance for a full recovery. I am looking forward to being my old self again but I have to take a few minutes to recount what the past few weeks have taught me._

_The life of a hologram is full of wonder. By simply speaking a few words I can disappear and reappear in a way is completely different experience from being in a transporter beam. I’m not just being transported by the beams... I’m part of the beam itself. I can face down danger with no fear of lasting damage. I have no need to eat, to sleep, to stop for anything. I am light, I am air. There is a part of me that is sorry to leave all this behind._

_If anyone is interested, yes, I was still able to show physical affection toward my wife. I don’t presume to speak for her so if you wish to hear about her side of the experience you’ll have to ask her but she may or may not share, depending on her mood. I must warn you that her response might well be “That’s none of your damn business.”_

_I had many concerns and fears when this process started but Voyager’s Doctor was more than willing to help me adjust to my temporary condition._

_I have come to a new appreciation for the Doctor. I never knew how it was for him to have us solid organic beings to treat his as a piece of equipment. How irritating it must be for him to be deactivated at a moment’s notice simply because we could not be bothered by him or thought we had something better to do. It is a very unique existence and it must be lonely for him to live his life among those different from himself._

_I know this experience will not make us friends exactly. We will still argue and push and pull at each other. I know I’ll try to get out of my duty shifts and he will always have a hard time trying to understand why I’m the way I am and why I do the things I do but as for me since I have had this experience will always think twice before I casually deactivate him or dismiss his concerns._

_I would recommend that if this protocol becomes standard procedure that an EMH be part of the Medical team._

_Tomorrow I begin again as a solid. I am not looking forward to waking up in that tube. I hate those things._

The first thing he felt was the sensation of breathing. His chest rising and falling. He could smell again. He had missed being able to smell. He started to lift his hands; why did they feel so heavy? He was conscious of his wedding ring. Then something forced his eyes opened and he looked into the face of the smiling Doctor.

“It worked, Mr. Paris. You are back together in one piece again. Your respiratory system has fully healed,” he said. His voice was calm.

Thankfully he was not in the tube. He hated those tubes. He was in his own quarters, in his own bed. He became aware that there were others in the room. B’Elanna, of course. Harry, Seven and the Captain were gathered around him.

“Well, that was quite the experience,” Tom said as he slowly sat up. He felt weak.

“You may stay here in your quarters for at least two days,” the Doctor said. “This wasn’t simply a long nap. You were dealt a serious injury and you have literally been breathing drugs. It will take a while for your system to get used to things like eating and sleeping again, plus the simple acts of moving about, but I see no reason why you shouldn’t be back to your own self after a few days’ rest.”

“Thank you, Doc. Thank you for everything... and thank you to the rest of you,” he said. He went quiet for a few moments.

“Now everyone out. Mr. Paris needs his rest!” The Doctor could be commanding when he needed to be. This was one of those times.

“Well, see you in a few days, Mr. Paris. I’ve given B’Elanna a few days off to look after you. We’ve missed you on the Bridge,” the Captain said. “It will be good to have you back at the helm again.” She reached over and gently squeezed his hand. Tom was moved by the intensity of emotion in her voice. She meant it.

“Thank you, Captain. I look forward to being back.”

The Captain never held back when she was happy. She gave him her warmest smile before leaving the room. Tom turned to Seven.

“Thank you, Seven.” He found it hard to speak. He didn’t know if it was because he was allowing feelings to overwhelm him because of everything his friends had done for him, or if it was from spending so much time asleep and being out of the habit of talking. “Thank you for breaking the codes. The Doctor told me how you worked to keep my program hidden,” he said quietly. The former Borg Drone said nothing but gave him the gift of a real smile before she followed the Captain. That alone almost made the ordeal worth it.

“I can’t wait until you write ‘My Life as a Photonic Being’,” Harry said. Tom reached out and took his friend’s hand.

“Thanks for hiding me, keeping me safe,” he said. He had to keep it brief or his voice would choke up again and Harry would never let him forget it.

“You’d do the same,” Harry said. He held onto his hand for a moment.

“Yes, I would.” He smiled at his friend released his grip and left the room.

The familiar whirring sound came from the replicator. The smell of hot tomato soup drifted over to him. He not only missed eating, he missed feeling hungry. He watched B’Elanna walk over to place the bowl on a tray. He was reminded of the Klingon mother and infant. He imagined B’Elanna as the mother of his children, children who would look just like her. He liked the idea. They had to have a talk. Very soon. As soon as the Doctor left.

The Doctor was still smiling the way he always did when one of his procedures succeeded.

“Doc, thank you for everything. I know it wasn’t easy putting up with me for the past two weeks but I want you to know that I learned a lot...about you. I was serious about those piloting lessons… I’m looking forward to completing the certification process.”

“I know you will pass with the proverbial flying colors, and our time spent together wasn’t as hard as all that, Mr. Paris. I have to say that I myself found the experience… oddly rewarding. Computer. Transfer EMH to Sickbay.”

With a shimmer and a flash he was gone.


End file.
